"You _shall_ love me!" he declared violently.
With the imperative need of the moment Ann found her courage returning. She
realised now that it was to be a battle between them, and she was filled
with a cold fury against this man who tried to enforce his will on hers.
Suddenly she ceased to struggle, and, bending her head back so that she
could see his face, confronted him with a cool, proud defiance.
"I shall hate you if you don't release me at once," she said quietly.
Her face, so close below his own, was milk-white in the moonlight, and her
hair glimmered with strange, lurking lights. Wavering gold of hair and eyes
and scarlet line of lips--they roused the devil in him. His mouth crushed
down on hers once more.
"You may hate me--but, all the same, you'll marry me! I swear it!" he said
with grim assurance.
"I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on earth."
It was very quietly uttered, but the absolute conviction of her answer
seemed to arrest him. He loosened his clasp of her body, but with the--same
movement his fingers slid to her wrist, prisoning it.
"Who would you marry?" he demanded.
She stood perfectly still, unresisting to the grip of his hand on her
wrist.
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